


Sting of the Rope

by Aondeug



Category: Bleach
Genre: Aftercare, Dacryphilia, F/F, Humiliation kink, Kinbaku, Poetry, Rough Body Play, Shibari, Subspace, Sui Feng likes her dommes mean, brat taming, degradation kink, kink as therapeutic practice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:15:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27813661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aondeug/pseuds/Aondeug
Summary: Both Yoruichi and Sui Feng love a good fight. They love it enough so for bouts to be a friendly way of passing the time together. One day, however, Yoruichi decides to spice up their routine sparring with a game: whoever wins the match gets to domme that night. Unfortunately for Sui Feng, sky high pride was not enough to win her the match. Now in a tight spot, she is left wondering just how Yoruichi can prove her dominance over her even more.
Relationships: Shihouin Yoruichi/Sui-Feng | Soifon
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Sting of the Rope

She sits there before you  
Having won the bet that you made,  
Sitting comfortably upon a cushion,  
Her legs crossed messily,  
Though her dress is immaculate.

As you stand before her.  
Your posture is rigid, perfect,  
Just like the uniform you wear.

A grin spreads across her face,  
She holds a finger pointing out  
Directly at you standing there,  
And with all the command of a god  
She orders you to take your clothes off.

You frown at the order,  
Finding it a hard one to follow  
And for why you would have  
In the century before this moment,  
Because your pride had reached  
Right to the heavens themselves  
And once more you were brought down  
Crashing before her feet,  
Seemingly damned to ever be second,  
But there is a different character to it this time.

She folds her arms, frowning back,  
Stating quite plain for you to hear  
That she never recalled you being  
Such a slow listener as this  
Most recent show from you here.  
Perhaps she should have prepared  
For this newest set of disappointments.

That comment bites at you deep,  
As does the tone of her voice  
And the look upon her face.  
It bites deep enough that,  
However hurt your pride may be,  
You bow forward deeply  
And offer her an apology.  
Which she waves off harshly  
Declaring that she wants no more  
To do with your repeated attempts  
At saving your pitiful ego.

“You were given an order and  
I expect you to follow it, Sui Feng.”

Those words seem so distant  
And the distance helps you rise  
As you take to your belts,  
Undoing them with a care  
That you’d wished you’d had  
In the bout that led you here.

As your hakama falls down  
She smiles at you once more  
And watches you step out  
From the first of your garments.

Not sure of how much care  
She expects of you now  
You pause to look on at  
Her face seeking guidance.  
What you see before you  
Is an opaque mirror  
That reflects back at you  
Only your own anxieties.

You will pass your exams,  
Or you will die trying to,  
Or you will leave in shame.  
You have only one choice  
And one choice alone.

So not knowing how to proceed  
You take to removing your shirts,  
Ignoring the bottoms behind you.  
But she lets out a loud sigh  
And folds her arms together tight  
To complain of your manners.

Apologizing again by instinct,  
Your face burns with shame  
As you drop to your knees  
To carefully fold up your hakama  
And set them to the side.

“I’ll let the time wasting slide,  
But do be quicker about it, Sui Feng.”

It’s not a compliment but  
An admonition that you get  
On the folding and your apologies,  
But the words speed you on  
To removing your top layers  
And folding them up just so  
To rest alongside your hakama.

Which leaves just one last garment  
And for that she halts you  
With a single call of your name  
Before telling you to stand.

You stand up and easy,  
As you look to the wall ahead  
As she looks upon you.

Is it out of nervousness  
That you avert your gaze  
Or is it one last defiant stand  
As you cling to your pride?

“You know it’s a bit boring  
If the cat’s prey never looks back, Sui Feng.”

Whatever your hesitation is   
The order implicit in those words  
Draws your eyes back to hers,  
And as you undo your fundoshi  
Your heart seems almost to stop,  
If only just for a moment.

The fabric starts to drop.

She was always fast.  
She was faster than you knew.

A hand of hers grips your wrist  
And she pulls you down hard.  
At the same time she makes,  
With the greatest of ease,  
A kick to your opposite ankle  
That throws out your leg   
From underneath you,  
And you come crashing down  
In a perfect mirror  
Of the bout that you lost.

The trick was underhanded  
But you should have expected it,  
And as you fall forward  
You pull your other leg up  
And push your hands out,  
Not just to brace your fall but  
To place them above your head.

Your palms and the one knee  
Take scrapes from the tatami,  
And the other is tucked  
Underneath you in a motion  
That you think to be awkward,  
But which brings your form  
To rest in a perfect bow  
With your forehead hovering  
Just above the bamboo mat.

“Are you even capable of listening  
When I tell you to quit apologizing, Sui Feng?”

Her foot comes down firm to rest  
Right on the top of your head  
And you look at the floor closely,  
Your face hovering just above it.  
She lets this stretch out for a moment  
And you say nothing, giving her assent,  
So she presses down firmly   
Grinding your face into the mat.

The pain does not equal  
Not even one one thousandth  
Of any you have ever felt  
When the time truly matters,  
Yet all the same, your breath,  
It hitches in your throat and  
Your fingers curl up a tad  
At the thought of the pain to come.

You had taken the time once more,  
To show off to her in what  
Pathetic ways that you can,  
And when she removes her foot  
From the top of your head  
While ordering you to sit up  
You take the time once more  
To defy her her rudenesses  
By not raising your head up  
Right when she orders you to.

Before you raise yourself upright,  
You give out a most formal apology  
Ending in a worshipful recitation   
Not just of her name by itself,  
But of her name with a title,   
_Your_ title, which you had claimed,   
Which you had given to her,  
All those years ago in an attempt  
To try and save your servant’s pride.

When you raise yourself upright   
You see a hard look on her face  
Which you meet with a blank face  
That speaks of nothing save compliance.

Your point has been made,  
And you will pay for that.  
You know that very well.

She makes no further comment,  
Instead wordlessly kicking away  
The last of your garments to fall,  
And you settle yourself right there  
With your hands folded in your lap  
To further your point ever more.

The mats beneath you irritate,  
As she steps out of your view  
To grab the tools for today’s game.

As she pads behind you,  
As you stare straight ahead,  
You wonder what will be gotten,  
Until she steps before you  
And you see in her hands   
Several lengths of jute rope  
And a mortal’s camera.

The mats beneath you irritate,  
As she kneels beside you  
Placing the camera to the side  
And in your line of sight.  
Your eyes turn to the device  
Before turning back to hers  
And she watches you closely,  
Asking you in silence  
If you would like to continue.

In the past what would you  
Have done to save your pride?  
Would you rise to your feet  
And give a shrill cry  
Of how you were unworthy  
Of intimacies with her?  
Or would you sit there,  
A compliant doll,  
Never providing any real fight?

You cannot say to your younger self,  
But you can say that right now  
That you nod your head just so,  
And seeing that nod she sets down  
The coils of rope, three and more.

She grabs the first length  
And inches towards you  
Off to your side then behind,  
And grabs your right wrist tight  
Pulling your arm up behind   
To settle in the middle of your back.

Your eyes slide shut tight  
As she tells you to hold this  
Pose that she’s set you in.  
You keep your eyes shut tight  
As she grabs your other wrist  
And you think your pride safeguarded.

One palm rests face down  
And the other rests face up,  
Each against the opposite arm,  
An artful form in and of itself  
Which she pushes down.

Your pride is safeguarded,  
You tell yourself that  
As the rope runs along your arms.

The length slides across them once  
In a loose arc, and then once more.  
The bight of the rope peeks under  
These two lines applied loosely,  
And with the bight so go her fingers,  
Running across your skin light,  
But only for brief moments.

You inhale deep, eyes shut tight,  
And she laughs at you,  
A soft warmth in her voice,  
As she pulls the tail and bight up,  
Pulling your arms up too.

Rope running along rope  
Isn’t the loudest of sounds,  
But you can hear it loud  
As the first knot is tied,  
Tidily holding your arms  
Behind your back just right.

“It’s almost like you think this is a break,  
With how you’re relaxing there, Sui Feng.”

A hand is rest upon you,  
Resting on your right shoulder.  
The rope is rest on your arm,  
Crossing along from the left.  
Your eyes open and her hand leaves  
To grab the rope and pull it  
Loosely across your chest.  
She holds the rope, pressing down,  
With a finger on the arm that  
The line bites into lightly.

You give a sound of assent,  
This one falling below proper,  
But she says nothing to you  
As she tenses the rope  
Against your other arm,  
And she says nothing to you  
As she wraps the rope around  
Your chest once more, left to right,  
The tension resting just so.

Her hand, the left, you’re certain,  
Slips under the line that lays  
Above your back to the side,  
And that very same hand  
Does not lay upon your back  
Though you can feel its warmth  
Hovering just above you.

You could struggle of course,  
Adjusting how you are seated  
Or arching your back just a tad,  
So as to brush against that hand,  
But you fight that urge down  
To keep your posture just so.  
A fact on which she’ll say nothing  
Though in your heart you hope  
That she praises your restraint  
As she runs the rope along  
Behind that backline at your spine.

That is the last moment  
That you can call kind.

“Quite the big breath you took.  
Are you running scared, Sui Feng?”

The line is pulled up and right  
And your wrists raise too.  
There’s hardly any fear in you  
But the camera lies nearby,  
Your eyes caught by it.

The strap at your back is pulled straight  
And your mind is pulled straight back  
To her hands against your back,  
Gently brushing against your skin  
As the straps are locked just right.

You can feel a strain that  
Will begin to burn after the  
Time passes on by,  
And you can feel her fingers,  
Two, slipping into your palm  
That you squeeze down upon  
Tight as you can manage,  
As one last ditch effort  
To make a fight right back.

You can feel a sting that  
Forces your fist open as  
Her nails dig into your flesh,  
And you can feel her fingers,  
Two, slipping out of your palm  
Then under the bands on  
Your arms checking that the  
Strain is just as she needs  
To make you regret having lost.

The fingers poke against   
Your left shoulder to your front,  
And you look down to see  
Those fingers catch the rope  
That is then slid under the bands  
That lay just above your breasts.

She pulls her face close to yours,  
As she pulls the tail up and through,  
And for a moment she pauses   
To give you the time to see  
Out the corner of your eye  
The look upon her face.

A grin, wide and cruel,  
Understanding of which only comes  
As the tension is shifted down,  
The rope biting just a bit more.

A shuddering breath leaves you  
As the tail is taken back  
Behind your back and wrapped  
Once, then twice, about the strap  
Resting just above your back.

That same line is dragged up  
And under your right arm and  
You can feel the fabric of her  
Clothes against your skin as  
That same rope is pulled up  
Underneath the line on the right,  
And you can feel the tension   
In the ropes grow tighter still.

Another two wraps just the same,  
Leave your upper arms bound  
Just as she wants them.

Your chest is only half bound,  
And your arms only half too  
So she pulls back and away  
From your body to measure  
Just where to set the line next  
As you sit there in silence.

The rope is pressed to you,  
Sliding down the flesh slow  
As she searches for the spot,  
Making absolutely certain  
To keep her fingers from   
Gliding along your body too.

The position found she talks  
Of how polite you’re being,  
Compared to the you before  
Who felt the need to tantrum  
With politenesses of all things.

You say nothing in response as  
She tucks the line under your breasts.  
You continue to say nothing as  
She draws it behind you once more.

There is a pride to be had  
While you sit there perfectly still  
With your legs falling to sleep,  
As the tatami bites at your knees.  
There’s a pride that you have  
As the rope slides behind you  
Wrapping you up a second time.

But the line finally runs short  
And she makes a comical sigh  
As she holds the line tight  
And goes digging for one more.

“Ah-hah! There it is! Just hold that right there,  
Though you can’t hold much can you, Sui Feng?”

You continue to keep your silence,  
Though your eyes turn down  
To try and spy her looking upon  
The lengths she brought out.  
You can barely see her there  
And you see nothing of the rope,  
But you hear her undoing the line,  
Running her hands down its length.

You can’t keep your silence  
Having heard the light sound,  
Of flesh against jute rope,  
And you think to yourself,  
Despite yourself, how you’d rather   
Have those hands of hers   
Gliding down your body instead,  
Playing the light sound of  
Flesh against flesh.

A chide comes from her as  
She ties the second length  
To the end of the first, saying  
That you were being so good  
So as to not waste her time  
With more of your silly words.

Can you not even have words  
Be they apologies or exaltations  
Of her name with title attached?

The knot attached, she continues  
Right from where she left off,  
Wrapping this new rope and knot  
Against your chest underneath  
Your breasts and across your arm.

She slides the line behind, then down,  
Before slipping it right under  
That lower band, pressing down.

The rope presses down firmly,  
But more firmly still as she pulls tight  
Enough to force the bands together  
Forcing your arms together too.

You take to counting breaths  
With each stitch that she makes  
As she wraps you up nice and secure,  
Your eyes sliding shut tight  
As you follow her hands close  
With your mind’s eye locked  
On the line sliding down between  
Your arm and chest before being  
Tucked beneath the band resting  
Below your heaving breast.

The whole length of rope is drawn  
Slow and careful under the bands,  
So she can take the extra care  
To let you savor this moment here  
In anticipation of what is next.

As you keep at counting breaths,  
You run through the possibilities,  
And she takes to taking her time  
To tie off the wraps at your back,  
Your possibilities stretching out.

Each is crueler than the last  
But you run through them all,  
Your heart leaping for each.

“There we have you, finally!  
All tied up and sitting how I want, Sui Feng.”

What hints are there to be found  
In those words she gives you?  
You’re not certain and a thrill  
Of wonder runs through you  
As you hear her stand up.

You open your eyes and  
You stop counting breaths.

She is not in front of you,  
Forcing you to turn your head  
In search of where she stands.

A sigh leaves her and your breath  
Leaves you as she kicks you  
To the floor without kindness.

She told you you were being behaved.  
She told you she wanted you still.

You just had to move, though,  
And so as you catch your bearings  
She kicks you hard once more  
Forcing you onto the floor,  
Stomach and face pressed  
Down into the tatami mats.

Her treatment is unkind, uncaring.  
Her treatment mimics your own.

You know that this is her point,  
And the point being made grates at you,  
Because what right has she  
To complain of you and your treatment  
Of those who sit beneath you  
When she treated those who sat beneath her  
As she did all those years back?

You know you should keep silent,  
But you open your mouth at last  
To mock her as you had wanted  
For a century and more, showing  
Her at last that you can rise  
To stand above and beyond her.

However big your words may be  
You are still the one on the mats  
With your arms bound so tight  
You would need shunko to break them,  
And however high your pride may be  
Your face is still ground into the mats  
By her foot placed firmly on your head  
With you incapable of any fight.

The point is made, another one,  
Which stings you far greater,  
For it is the one above all others  
That you deny most gravely. 

Without shunko you are bound,  
And even with shunko  
You cannot stand up against  
The woman who _made_ it.

She has always been a god  
Whose greatness has always  
Stood far beyond your grasp,  
And your eyes sting with tears  
As you tell yourself that it’s  
Just the bite of the ropes,  
Just the bite of the mats,  
That brings you to tears there.

The pressure lifts from your head  
As you continue to sob  
And she comes to a stop  
That makes you swear at her.

She kneels down before you  
To look you in the eyes  
Wearing a pitying look  
That brings the same curse  
Back out of your throat.

“I guess this still isn’t enough  
To teach you to keep your temper, Sui Feng.”

It’s not a question but a declaration  
As clear as day as she presses   
A leg down into your own legs,  
The pain at which makes them rise  
For her to grab with an arm.

The pain is hardly as great  
As any you have ever felt  
When the time truly matters  
But as she grabs another line,  
A knee digging into your legs,  
The shame digging in further,  
The pain seems far greater   
Than any you have ever known.

The pressure lifts from your legs  
As she lifts her leg to rest  
Over top your own,   
Propping herself above you.  
Your ankles still are pinned  
By an arm as she unravels  
The third length of rope.  
You wriggle and you writhe,  
Straining against both rope and arm  
As she runs that third length  
Around your shins once, then twice,  
Curses falling from your lips.

The arm holding you lets go but  
Grabs the rope’s bight too quick  
For you to pull your legs apart,  
And she pulls the rope taut  
Forcing your legs together tight.

As you lay upon the tatami mats,  
As she slips the bight under the bands,  
Your pride finally crumbles in full,  
Leaving you to let your legs be bound  
As you let out loud, racking sobs,  
Thinking of how she returned to you  
Only to tear you apart in full.

Her cruelty is great and without end.  
Perhaps you deserve that cruelty though.  
For how much you mouth off or  
For how you treat those under you.

She takes the third rope’s end,  
Pulls it and your legs up and back,  
Then slides that third rope’s end under  
The bands of the first at your back.  
She pulls the line back further still  
So as to take your legs farther back  
But not so far as to break you now,  
And you think to yourself then and there  
That you do not deserve that kindness.

The tension is tested.  
Your legs ache, your face burns.  
The camera is picked up.  
Your arms aren’t numb, but your heart is.  
The goddess smiles at you  
And you have no fight left.

A click, heard.  
A flash, seen.

You have words.  
You give them.  
You don’t hear them.

The rope burns.  
The mat burns too.

There is warmth,  
Soft, full.

There is her smile.

Her smile.  
It is soft.  
It is warm.

That smile:  
It is yours,  
For you,  
Just you,  
Right now  
As you are   
Reduced  
To art  
For her,  
Just her.

The rope burns,  
But you feel joy.  
The tears fall,  
But you feel free.

Just having been broken.

She unties you, bit by bit,  
Until at last you are free  
And all the while she does  
You can’t keep count of time,  
But you can keep hold  
Of how free you feel at last.

You lay there, still sobbing,  
And you look to her smile  
As she rests a hand upon you,  
Stroking at your hair; you feel it.

She builds you back up, bit by bit,  
Until at last you can crawl over  
To rest your head into her lap,   
Time coming back, and with that time   
Comes back your words  
Letting you say her name  
Without the title attached,  
Your rage fully dissipated. 

You look to her smile  
As the words and the world  
Come back to you,  
And you can note how  
She brushes a thumb  
Against your cheek  
To wipe away your tears,  
And you can feel it.

Those years ago  
When you cried this way,  
You wanted to run,  
To run and hide your shame,  
To have the strength needed for it.

Now though, as she asks  
How you are down there  
You can’t find the need or want  
To hide your shame,  
Nor can you even find  
Any of that supposed shame.

You lift your right hand  
To rest against her own  
And you smile back at her  
Through the tears  
Feeling so free at last.

Brushing her thumb against your cheek  
She looks down upon you and says,  
“Sui Feng, you’ve gotten stronger.”


End file.
